Onto a windswept grave, he wept,
as if some magic tear
might well give drink unto the ground
and life to who rests there
for more of same; the hooded one came
and leaned upon his scythe.
He told the one who cried upon
the grave, "t'was just a tithe"
"The ravages of Father Time
"will one day do for you
"what is to all evenutally,
"that's give to me my due.
"So cry, ye merry gentleman!
"Tears for the grief ye bear,
"yet comes the day, and come what may
"I'll find you anywhere."
--Monty Wheeler
Good one, Monty. I'm looking over my shoulder.
ReplyDeletehey, glynn, ty's, and don't look too long; imagination has a way... :)
DeleteAwesome Monty. Looking forward to following you.
ReplyDeletety's susie, and not as much as I look toward having you along :)
DeleteAnd so he will,,,find us,,,good write,,,,, :-)
ReplyDelete